


The Night Before

by babylonne



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Against the Wall - Freeform, Comfort Sex, F/F, Pre-Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 21:44:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylonne/pseuds/babylonne
Summary: Keira and Triss share an unexpected moment of passion before the Battle of Kaer Morhen.





	

Triss paced a lonely hallway in the upper levels of Kaer Morhen. The floor was thick with a carpet of dust. In a castle of four witchers, some corners of the keep hardly knew the sound of a human’s sigh for decades. They were corners where light did not meet the walls, and Triss had not bothered to light any of the lamps, mounted on the walls in rusted brackets.

Through this darkness, Triss walked back and forth. It was supposed to be soothing but anxiety bubbled up in her like boiling kettle. It rushed through her veins and sweated out of her in streams, despite the keep’s chill.

Everything rode on her tomorrow. No, that was not quite right, but–

Triss breathed heavily. In her mind’s eye, she could see it, clear as day. Ciri disappearing and then reappearing in pulsating flashes of green light. Geralt, sword swinging. Yennefer above, holding a ward to protect them all and–

Ciri appearing in the wrong spot, just in time to be impaled from behind on Eredin’s sword. Geralt, succumbing to his multiple foes. Yennefer’s ward failing.

She had to be fast. She had to protect them with her signature flames, make sure that the enemy could not reach them in such numbers.

The sorceress ran her hands through her hair and accidentally tugged some strands out of place. Her bun was lopsided and she pulled her flame hair out the band holding it together, snapping the elastic hard against her skin.

‘Shit!’ she hissed, rubbing at the sore spot. Irritation joined the chaotic mix of emotions as she contemplated what an absolutely insignificant injury this was compared with what could happen tomorrow. Her eyes pricked. What the hell? Was she about to _cry_ over a little _sting_?

‘Is someone there?’

Triss froze. The feminine, haughty voice that called down the hallway was familiar. Intimately so.

‘Keira?’

‘Triss?’

She was radiant. Triss coughed back the sudden laugh that burst inside her. No one else was foolish enough to spend the night before a battle beautifying themselves but Keira Metz. The sorceress had even gone to the trouble of changing her dress.

‘Where did you even get that?’ Triss gestured to the folds of satin, drawing in close at the waist and flaring outward just a little. ‘I didn’t think the witchers kept spare gowns in Kaer Morhen.’

‘They made an exception, just for me.’ Keira grinned, revealing all her pearly white teeth.

‘Where did you get it from, really?’

Keira muttered a spell under her breath and the lamps roared to life, filling the hallway with light. Immediately after, Keira retched and the smile died on her face. There were several corpses of rats littering floor, as far as the eye could see. Her nose wrinkled up as she dimmed several of the lamps so that their immediate surroundings _only_ were apparent.

‘Disgusting creatures.’ She shook her head. ‘If you must know, I brought them with me from Velen. It was the last thing I owned that wasn’t infested by bed bugs.’ Keira’s face was still coloured with utter disdain for all insects and creatures. She had been like that as far as Triss could remember, and they _had_ known each other for such a long time. Most of that time, Keira had been decked in sartorial splendour. It warmed Triss’ heart a little to see her enjoying the finer things in life again. She knew what it was to lose everything.

‘I don’t remember seeing you arrive with much luggage,’ Triss said, crossing her arms and leaning against a wall. The blonde sorceress had arrived scowling and ranting about how Geralt had all but _stolen_ some notes from her, and sent her on her merry way. She wore a blue ragged gown which was ripped at the hem and clearly home to one too many bugs. Triss had been practically press-ganged into helping her bathe and wash her hair.

‘If you must know, I used a compression charm!’ Keira sniffed. ‘ _Nosy_.’

‘Keira! For a dress? Those spells use a lot of power…’

‘Enough about my dress!’ Keira pointed at Triss. ‘Why are you up here? Everyone is looking for you.’

Triss raised her eyebrows. ‘Everyone?’ She could not imagine why anyone had need of her. They all had their own preparations to undertake before the battle. Yennefer would be sound asleep, preserving her power and energy for the momentous needs of the next day. And Geralt, he would likely be with her too.

Keira snorted, and the sound was so delightful. So inappropriate for the given moment, where the situation all but demanded solemnity. She could almost forget that they were to face imminent death tomorrow.

As though Keira had read her mind, she said, ‘Not Geralt and Yennefer. Or that cranky old man Vesemir.’

‘Ciri?’

Keira smiled wickedly. ‘No. The witchers. Lambert and Eskel. You remember Lambert, don’t you? After all, I heard the two of you…’

‘That was a long time ago, Keira. And it was only one night.’

‘Funny how Geralt never found out about that.’

Triss blushed furiously. The walls were solid stone; they were thick but perhaps the witcher’s ears were better. She hushed her friend with a frenzied gesture.

‘Oh please,’ Keira laughed. ‘He’s not on the other side of this wall. Besides, his full attention is on Yennefer. Speaking of which, it’s not as though Geralt ever expected fidelity from you.’

‘Yes, but he doesn’t know and I’d like to keep it that way. For a little while longer, at least.’ Although she was mortified, she could not help but smile a little too. Keira’s good humour was infectious.

There was a moment of comfortable silence between them. Then Keira prodded Triss with her finger. ‘So, that doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing up here? Cloistering yourself in the dark like some kind of _vampire_.’

‘I was…’ Triss did not know what to say that would not make her sound like the biggest coward on the Continent. She looked down at the dust-coated floor and wondered how she could explain herself.

Keira’s expression softened and she moved towards her. Her skirts brushed against the dust of the ground and she artfully gathered them to the side with a delicate movement. With a gentle hand, she lifted Triss’ chin so that their eyes met. ‘Were you afraid?’

Triss gulped. ‘Not for myself.’

‘Of course not.’ Keira sighed. ‘Who, then?’

‘For everyone. I’m afraid I’ll make a mistake and that mistake will cost someone their life.’

Keira looked at her with pity, and something else, shining in her bright eyes. ‘We could all do that. Each one of us could make a terrible mistake. But we must trust one another. I never would have agreed to do this if I didn’t believe in you, and everyone else here.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, I believe in everyone except that horrible elf.’

‘Avallac’h?’ The seemingly random statement caught her off guard and pulled her out of her shame and melancholy.

‘Yes!’ Keira frowned. ‘He asked me to perform a service for him in exchange for a magic lamp. Then ran off without giving me the lamp!’

Triss was totally confused. ‘You’ve met him before?’

‘Yes, with Geralt, but hey!’ Keira realised she had derailed the conversation. ‘Listen. This isn’t about me, or you, or Geralt, or anyone. It’s about all of us as a whole, working together collectively. It’s like the Lodge.’ A shadow passed over her face. ‘We were powerful, together. And look what became of us apart. Phil, blinded, Margarita, imprisoned, Sabrina, burned. We must rely on one another and agree not to turn into feral cats should one of us err or fail in our task.’

She looked at the blonde sorceress with surprise. ‘Where did that come from?’

‘Where did what come from?’ Keira looked back at her, nonplussed.

She smiled. ‘The motivational speech! I’ve never heard you say anything so kind in all your life.’

Keira elbowed her and scoffed. ‘I can be inspirational whenever I want. How about this: think about what you want to happen after the battle. Where do you want to be? _Who_ do you want to be with?’ She said the last sentence with a dramatic wink.

But her playful question had the opposite effect. Triss stiffened a little, and the laughter ebbed inside her. ‘I don’t have anyone. You know that. Geralt chose Yennefer.’

‘Good gods, Triss.’ Keira sighed, as though she was about to impart a very important lesson to a pupil for the hundredth time. ‘You don’t need Geralt.’

Then, she very gently used both her hands to push Triss against the wall, and leaned in, planting her lips on the completely unsuspecting sorceress’. Triss gasped and almost pulled away in shock. But she resisted the urge and closed her eyes instead. Despite all her complaints about how rough she had been living in Velen, Keira’s lips were very soft.

Triss kissed Keira back and noted somewhere in the back of her mind that Keira must have dimmed the lights even more. She wrapped her hands around the blonde’s slim waist and felt Keira reciprocate by tightening her grip on Triss’ shoulders. With a sigh, Keira deepened the kiss and ran her tongue over Triss’ lips, which made her shiver with delight.

She felt her previous fears about tomorrow slipping from her mind. Her senses were heightened and alert only to her immediate surroundings: the cold, stone wall at her back, and the warm, soft sorceress pressed against her front. What mattered tomorrow when the present was so lovely?

Surrendering to the moment, Triss ran her hands up Keira’s back to reach her blonde tresses. She ran her fingers through them. Had her mouth not been very busy at that moment, she would have made fun of Keira again for moaning so much about how bad living in Velen had been. The blonde locks were silky and perfumed as any princess’ could hope to be. She had not lost a fleck of her beauty in that savage land.

Keira licked at her lips again, inviting her to open her mouth. She did, and they tasted each other. Keira tasted like honey and summer; all lightness without a hint of sorrow or apprehension. There was no worry to be found in her, nothing to be found but escape and pleasure. With fingers that moved, now, of their own accord, Triss began unbuttoning the back of Keira’s dress. While she did so, the sorceress slipped her own hand inside Triss’ blouse. With quick fingers, she found her nipple and pinched it. Triss gasped at the sensation. Heat was starting to pool between her legs, along with an urgent _want_.

If Keira had been paying attention she would have been very displeased with how roughly Triss ripped off the final few buttons. Luckily, she was occupied with the soft mouth and soft breasts of the flame haired sorceress. Keira’s satin gown fell to the floor, to the attention of no one. Beneath, she wore nothing at all.

Triss was quickly divested of her own blouse and trousers. With a mutual look of agreement, they glanced at the floor and shook their heads. Keira continued to kiss Triss up against the wall, this time with no cloth barriers between them. Moving impatiently, Keira kissed her neck, moving across her shoulders and down to her breasts. She circled one nipple with a finger and sucked at the other with an insistent tongue.

With flushed cheeks, she looked up at Triss. ‘I’ve always been jealous of how beautiful your breasts were.’ Triss laughed breathlessly at the radiant sorceress who was expressing jealously over her looks. Keira was perfect just as she was. The blonde returned to her kisses, working her way down Triss’ belly, slowing maddeningly when she reached her lower abdomen.

‘We have the whole night, don’t’ we?’ Keira teased as she noticed Triss’ slight frown. ‘Oh don’t look at me like that.’ She brushed her tongue over Triss’ clit, making her moan. ‘I know what you want.’

Keira wasted no time. She kneeled and manoeuvred one of Triss’ legs over her shoulder, licking her in long, steady strokes. Triss was already dripping wet, infinitely aroused at the sudden encounter with Keira. She had not expected it all and that made it exciting and far more enjoyable. Eliciting another moan from her, Keira slipped a finger inside her and began to slide it in and out, circling her clit with her tongue. It was wonderful but nowhere near enough. Triss felt like she was going to burst if she did not come soon.

‘Keira, please,’ Triss groaned, writhing against the wall. It was cold, ice cold, now that her body felt like it was on fire. Keira ignored her and continued at the same pace. She glanced down and felt another wave of pleasure roll through her; Keira’s face was slick and wet with her juices. She pushed herself closer to Keira’s face, trying desperately to increase the pressure, the speed, anything.

Instead, Keira tortured her further by removing her finger. She moved her tongue further down, licking her entrance and using her fingers to pinch her clit. This sent electric shocks through Triss’ body, and her moans grew louder. The witchers would certainly be able to hear her now, but she was long past the point of caring. There was only one thing on her mind at this moment.

‘ _Keira_ ,’ she said again. Her voice did not sound like it belonged to her entirely; it was a sound of utter desperation.

‘Oh, all right,’ Keira said, laying a light kiss on her down there before she began to lick harder and faster. With a shriek of satisfaction, Triss felt her pump not two but three fingers in and out of her. Her legs almost would not hold her up anymore. She was very glad of the wall’s support. It felt like the world was coming undone; something inside her was being pulled tighter and tighter…

With a rush of wet heat, Triss found her release. She let out a breath that she did not know she had been holding as her now useless legs folded beneath her and she slid down to the floor. Keira breathed hard too, her cheeks rosy pink. A glint of satisfaction was evident in her eyes. Lithely, she climbed onto Triss’ lap.

‘I do believe it’s my turn now, dear Triss.’


End file.
